


Harbors

by straightforwardly



Category: A Redtail's Dream (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mage Hannu, Setting - Stand Still Stay Silent Prologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 20:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11676462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/pseuds/straightforwardly
Summary: It was only by the soft light of the rising moon that Hannu even saw the figure sitting on the porch, holding a crossbow on his knee as he waited for them.





	Harbors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yuuago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuuago/gifts).



The sun bled dark into the horizon as they rowed back towards the island. Only the gentle splash of the oars hitting the water broke the silence. Neither of them spoke. Maybe by now it was pretty certain that there weren’t any trolls or beasts in the water — but neither of them felt sure enough of that to risk waking something up. 

Hannu might have hazarded it, if he’d really wanted to, but Ville kept shooting him wide-eyed, worried looks, and as far as he was concerned the conversation Ville wanted to have could be put off forever. His calf ached, fiercely, but he ignored that too.

They reached the island as the last of the sun’s rays slipped away, and it was only by the soft light of the rising moon that Hannu even saw the figure sitting on the porch outside the cabin, holding a crossbow on his knee as he waited for them. 

Joona.

With a sigh, he paused in his rowing long enough to raise a hand, both in greeting and to make sure that he noticed their approach. They were all a little edgy these days. It wouldn’t do to surprise him, especially not when he was armed. 

Joona returned the gesture, his long ponytail slipping down over his shoulder as he stood. Hannu’s arms burned as he maneuvered the boat towards shore; he watched Joona as much as he watched where he was going. Joona set the crossbow down on the steps, and went down to the dock to help them bring the boat in.

“You two sure took a while. Nice to see you aren’t dead,” he said when he reached them, catching the rope Ville tossed him and bending down to tie it to the post. He paired the words with a smile, his tone joking, but he hadn’t quite succeeded at erasing the real note of concern that ran under them. 

He used to be better at hiding that, Hannu thought, and was immediately irritated with himself for even noticing. 

Ville pulled his mask down to his neck, the words he’d been holding back finally bursting out. “He almost did die! It was terrible!”

Joona looked up sharply. 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Hannu bit out, letting go of the oars. He pulled his own mask over his head, tossing it down on the floor of the boat. “I just got a little bruised. It’s not like the thing got me.”

“But it could have!” Ville’s voice rose in a piteous whine; not for the first time, Hannu though it was a miracle that no one had ever figured out that he’d once been a dog. It should have been obvious, once magic being real had become undeniable. 

“But it didn’t,” Hannu repeated. 

“But what if it had!? What would have happened then!?” 

“Then I would have finally found out if I'm immune or not,” said Hannu drily. Even as he said it, though, a memory of the beast’s fangs, snapping closed right before his throat just as he threw himself backwards, flashed through his mind. He could still smell the thing’s hot, rancid breath. 

He shook his head, and started pulling himself out of the boat. His leg shook a little under his weight, and he sat down on the edge of the dock’s planks, leaning his arm against the nearest post — which also happened to be the post Joona had tied the rope to — like that had been what he’d been planning to do all along. 

“ _Hannu_.” Ville sounded like he was about to cry. 

Joona broke in, looking between them. “What happened? I thought you were just going to do your magic thing,” here, he waggled his fingers, “and take it down fast and easy?”

Hannu glanced down at Ville, who hadn’t yet moved, and found him staring up at him with a mournful expression. _Don’t you dare tell_ , Hannu tried to say with his eyes. That never really worked out for him like it should have, but it was worth a try. Maybe this time it would be different.

“He called the gods jerks,” Ville told Joona, in the kind of tone that told Hannu that if he were still a dog, his tail would have been dragging against the ground. “They weren’t happy about it.”

Hannu exhaled, slumping his head down against his arm. “They _are_ jerks,” he muttered, half-defensively. His eyes fell closed. 

Joona made a sound that might have been laughter. “Insulting the things that he wants help from? That _does_ sound like Hannu.”

“Hey!”

It definitely was a laugh this time. “Sorry, sorry.” He patted Hannu a few times, before letting his hand, heavy and warm, settle on top of Hannu’s head. Hannu thought about shoving it away, as punishment for the teasing, but— he was tired. And the warmth didn’t feel too bad. He’d let it go, this time. But just this once. 

He heard creaking wood and the splash of shifting water— Ville, finally getting out of the boat himself. Hannu cracked one eye open, and found him standing on the other side of Joona, an unhappy expression on his face. 

Hannu sighed. He didn’t want to talk about this. He just wanted to lay down somewhere quiet and relax. But he couldn’t leave Ville with that expression on his face either. 

“Look— I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”

“But next time—”

“Do you really think I’m stupid enough to make the same mistake twice? It won’t happen again.”

Ville still looked uncertain. “Promise?”

“...Yeah.”

Ville hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.” Another pause. “Shouldn’t we be going in, then? We are pretty late. Your parents—”

Hannu groaned, and closed his eyes. “No.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like his parents. But he could barely deal with their affection at the best of times, and since the Rash they’d gotten even worse. How they’d react once they’d learned he’d been hurt, even if it was basically nothing… he didn’t even want to imagine it. 

“That reminds me,” Joona said suddenly. “I think my old man was looking for you earlier, Ville.”

“Huh? Why—”

“Dunno. Wasn’t listening. But you should probably hurry. He’ll be pissed if he knew you were back this long and I didn’t tell you.”

Joona wasn’t half as good at lying as he thought he was, but Ville seemed to be buying it nonetheless. Hannu found himself unwillingly grateful. 

“I—”

“Go ahead,” said Hannu. “I’ll be fine. You don’t want to get Joona in trouble, do you?”

Ville looked torn, but he went. 

Joona waited until they heard the sound of the cabin door opening and falling shut again, then said, “So, what _is_ wrong with that leg of yours?”

Hannu groaned, and immediately took back every vague feeling of gratitude he might have had. “Not you too.” He shoved away Joona’s hand, getting to his feet. “If I’m going to get smothered either way, then I might as well go inside, where it’s actually _warm_.” 

He tried to limp past him, but Joona grabbed him from around the waist, tugging him back — and overbalanced. For a moment Hannu thought they both were going to fall off the deck and topple into the water — but he fell on top of Joona instead, his arm slamming into the side of one of the posts. Hannu squirmed, cursing, but Joona, laughing, held him in place. “Nope! You’re not going anywhere. Not when I’ve finally gotten you all to myself.”

Hannu went red, and his struggling subsided. “Fine,” he grumbled, letting his head fall back on Joona’s chest. “But no fussing over my leg.”

Joona didn’t let go of him, but his grip did loosen, until it was merely firm rather than confining. He nuzzled the top of Hannu’s head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Hannu could have pointed out that he _had_ been fussing — that that was what had started all this — but it would have taken too much energy, and Joona would have been insufferable and never have admitted to it anyway. It wasn’t worth it. 

Hannu closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the sky, wouldn’t have to risk seeing some spirit trailing by. It was… comfortable, like this. Quiet. It was rarely quiet in the cabin, as overcrowded as it was — seven people living where there should have maybe been three or four. Here the air was still. Joona was warm around him, and his arms, now that they weren’t trying to pin him down, made for a comfortable weight. He could feel the movement of Joona’s every breath, rising and falling beneath him. 

Then Joona shifted under him, sitting up. Hannu made to move away, but couldn’t — Joona’s arms still held on to him. He made a disgruntled sound, and Joona grinned down at him, looking all-too satisfied with himself. 

Hannu rolled his eyes. Then, because he didn’t want to see that stupid look on Joona’s face any longer than he had to, he reached up and kissed him. 

Normally he wouldn’t have done something like that so close to the cabin, where anyone could go outside and see them. But— It’d been a long day. And he was tired. And this was clearly what Joona was working his way up to, so why shouldn’t he steal the thunder from him? 

And maybe he had a point, though Hannu would never tell him so, about how little time they had to be alone. There was enough forest on the island that they could slip out sometimes and be alone there, but getting the pine needles out of his hair afterwards was always a pain. And tonight he was tired, and his leg hurt, and if they disappeared into the forest someone might notice, and worry, and it’d be more trouble than it was worth. 

One of Joona’s hands twisted in his hair. Hannu leaned in, biting at his lip. He pushed aside, at least for a moment, the ache in his leg, that dumb beast leaping towards him, the stupid spirits he’d never asked to be able to see, the way they were all never more than a moment’s bad luck away from death. 

Maybe he needed this too. Needed Joona’s warmth, his mouth. Just a little bit. 

Hannu pressed close, and let himself forget.


End file.
